


Weather Being Relative

by alyjude_sideburns



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Community: sentinel_thurs, First Time, M/M, Sentinel Thursday Challenge, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyjude_sideburns/pseuds/alyjude_sideburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair's a bit under the weather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weather Being Relative

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Sentinel Thursday. The challenge prompt: one of the guys feels under the weather.

**Weather Being Relative by Alyjude**

 

I might be a bit under the weather.  
  
Nothing serious, mind you. Just feeling a bit... less than myself.  
  
You know the feeling. Nothing tastes quite right, vision is okay, most of the time, but every now and then you have to blink several times to bring everything back into focus. You're not really achy but you're sore. And there's that whole... malaise thing going.  
  
Yeah, I'm a bit under the weather.  
  
Funny. I've always wondered what it would feel like to be in love. Like--die for the person kind of in love, you know? I didn't expect this... this... generalized... not top of my form thing.  
  
I really have to up the energy level at the station or it might be noticeable. So far, so good, though. But once home, yeah, once home, I just give in to it. Move slower, not really hungry, don't much care what we watch on television, and basically spend a lot of time saying, "Whatever."  
  
Yeah, whatever.  
  
Just a tad under the weather. Maybe.  
  
If being in love feels like this--at least like this in my present circumstances--I can see why so many avoid it like the plague. I mean, who wants to go through life in this weird fog? Who wants to spend their days whatevering, you know?  
  
 _"Sandburg, how 'bout Chinese tonight?"_  
  
"Whatever."  
  
Shouldn't I be wondering why he doesn't love me back?  
  
 _"Sandburg, I need to pick up some things for the truck tomorrow, wanna go with?"_  
  
"Whatever."  
  
No, the question should be why would he love me back? Oh, he loves me in that whole brothers-in-arms, "My twenty bucks is your twenty bucks but if you were a real man, you'd leave it on the counter, bro," kind of way of his. And I never did get that. I've always felt when two people are that close, what's twenty bucks between them, you know? That's what friends are all about, I think. There's probably an obligation to repay the twenty, but I see it more as maybe the next time it'll be my twenty on the counter, you know?  
  
 _"Sandburg, I saw the list of books you need. Why not head over to that artsy bookstore on Fifth on the way home? I owe you anyway."_  
  
"Whatever."  
  
What the hell am I saying? Jim'll never need my twenty. Or five, or my socks, or my sweatshirt, or my....  
  
Wow, I borrow a bunch of stuff from Jim.  
  
I might just be a... parasite.  
  
Parasitical.  
  
A tick on Jim's calf.  
  
Yeah, that was a short joke. Heh.  
  
 _"Hey, Chief, that was great the way you loaned out your Cree spear to Daryl. Simon's expression was priceless, by the way."_  
  
"Whatever, man."  
  
So I'm parasitical. I take more than I give. That just amazes me... I mean... was I like that when I was a kid?  
  
 _"Sandburg, you were a big help at that crime scene. I was totally lost in the smell and couldn't focus. And I know it was hard--that was one gruesome murder, even for those of us with years of experience. But you done good."_  
  
"Whatever."  
  
Have I been a taker all my life? Is that why Jim could never.... Well, that and the "I'm a guy" thing.  
  
Yeah, me, a taker. Take, take, take.  
  
I've got to change my spots, you know?  
  
 _"Did I remember to thank you for that new pillow? The sneezing is history, Chief."_  
  
"Whatever, man."  
  
Not that changing my spots will change how he feels about me. Well, unless I change my gender. And sorry, but to quote an old Meatloaf song, "I'll do anything for love, but I won't do that."  
  
Hell, you know, if he asked....  
  
*****  
  
 _"God bless. You coming down with something, Chief?"_  
  
I blow my nose and ignore the question. When you're under the weather, you actually get sick. Who knew?  
  
I sneeze again and hold up my hand to forestall another "God bless" before getting up and ambling into the kitchen for some orange juice. I drink right out of the carton and pray that Vitamin C will kick some major virus ass.  
  
 _"I see I'll be going to the store later. You're going to need more juice."_  
  
"Whatever, man."  
  
How the hell did I let myself fall in love, anyway? Okay, unfair question. I mean, look at the man. Look at his heart, his mind, his god-damn legs that go forever. And those hands. God, those hands. And he's damn handsome too.  
  
Sometimes, when he laughs, I feel like nothing bad could ever happen. His laugh is like that. So's a simple grin from him.  
  
Oh, man, I've got it bad.  
  
Which is why I'm a wee bit under the weather.  
  
I bet I'm the only person I know that knows what that damn phrase means. And that's scary. Nautical. On board ship, you fall ill, they kept you below deck, and thus, under the weather. Get it? I'm full of that kind of crap. Among other things.  
  
Ever wonder where the expression, "Twenty-three skiddo" came from? I actually know. How bizarre is that? Useless information, boring bits of nonsense--  
  
 _"Chief, how the hell did you come up with that tidbit about screws? You really helped break open that case."_  
  
"Whatever."  
  
I think I'll go below and hit the sack; below in this case being my room below the stairs. Heh. Get it? I get up and start my shuffle off to Buffalo when suddenly my mouth gets another idea. Before I can stop it, it opens.  
  
"Jim, I'd get a sex change operation--if you wanted me to."  
  
I clamp a hand over my errant mouth. I may be under the weather, but since when did that translate to insane?  
  
"Well, gee, thanks, Chief, but I rather like you the way you are, truth be told. I think you'd make a kind of... butch female. You know? Sure, you have the long hair, sensuous lips, big blue eyes, but come on. Look at your chin, your jaw, that forehead. And your chest, Chief. Your chest. All that chest hair. You may be short, but you're also hairy and all man."  
  
The word "depilatory" runs across my brain, but I brush it away. Lots of people, tons of people, have had a ball running their fingers through my chest hair.  
  
"You like my chest hair?"  
  
"It's very... you know... masculine. Teasing. Peeking out of shirt collars...."  
  
I'm starting to feel a wee bit... better. Mmmm.  
  
"So a sex change operation is out, then?"  
  
"I'd say so, Chief. Kind of radical when what you have works so well."  
  
The top deck is looking better and better.  
  
"How would you know what I have works so well when you've never tried it."  
  
"Are you _inviting_ me to try it?"  
  
"Would you accept if I were?"  
  
"I would."  
  
"I am."  
  
"I accept."  
  
*****  
  
"You're looking well, Sandburg."  
  
"Thanks, Simon."  
  
"For awhile, you seemed a bit under the weather."  
  
"Did I? Well, I'm fine now."  
  
"I wonder where that term comes from, anyway."  
  
"Me too, Jim. Sandburg, you know?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, yeah. You see...."  
  
The End.

 

  
**Disclaimer:** All characters from **The Sentinel** are the property of Pet Fly Productions, Danny Bilson and Paul DeMeo. Characters from any other television show, movie or book are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. We believe the works contained in this archive to be transformative in nature and therefore protected under the 'fair use' provisions of copyright law.

This story archived at <http://asr3.slashzone.org/archive/viewstory.php?sid=1284>


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